the years before the street lamps were installed. He almost knew his own backyard flight route better than he knew the way to the front door.
Past the tailor and between the butcher and the physician’s shops, he directed Kalai left. And there it was, at the end of the road. His childhood home.
Tauran took a deep breath. In the distance, the children squealed and laughed. An elderly man walked by and smiled at them in greeting.
Kalai gave Tauran’s hand a squeeze.
Tauran knocked three times, heart in his throat. A silly side of him was certain his mother would take one awful look at him and slam the door in his face. He took half a step back, but Kalai’s hand slipped from his and pressed against the small of his back instead, keeping him from retreating. Tauran took another breath. He could do this.
The lock clicked, and the door swung open.
Madelina Darrica’s gentle face appeared in the doorway. Tauran’s breath stilled in his throat. She had aged. Her blonde hair was grayer, the lines between her brows and the corners of her tired eyes deeper. Her eyes scanned Tauran’s face for a second before the moment of recognition.
“Hey, Ma,” Tauran said, surprised by the roughness of his own voice.
Madelina’s breath hitched, and she released the spatula she’d been holding, letting it fall to the floor. She parted her lips as if to speak, then gave up and stepped forward instead, wrapping startlingly tight arms around Tauran. A choked sound left her, and Tauran felt his own throat constrict too tight. He returned her embrace with shaking hands. For a long moment, neither of them said a word before she whispered, “Tauran. My boy, my sweet boy. I’ve missed you so much”
Tauran cleared his throat. “I’m home,” he croaked and finally raised his head from the crook of her shoulder before the tightness in his throat could transform into tears. He gathered himself, finding his strength in Kalai’s hand grazing his elbow.
Madelina straightened her apron and rubbed her arms, hands flitting in front of her before she cupped Tauran’s face. She stood on her toes and pressed her forehead to his. “Skies, I love you. How are you? Are you all right?”
“I love you, too. And I’m so, so sorry,” Tauran whispered.
Madelina hushed him. She shook her head gently against his. “Come. Come inside.”
“Ma,” Tauran said, withdrawing from her hold.
Kalai had retreated slightly to offer them privacy, leaning against the white banister by the stairs. When Tauran turned toward him, Kalai smiled.
“Ma, this is Kalai,” Tauran said, swallowing. “And I’m in love with him.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am.” Kalai ran a self-conscious hand through his unruly hair when Madelina turned her gaze on him, seeming to notice him for the first time.
She took in his figure, then settled her eyes on his face and smiled back, her expression radiating pleasant surprise. Stepping past Tauran, she took Kalai gently by the shoulders. “That’s Madelina, to you, love,” she said, then turned back and gestured inside. “I’m cooking lunch. We’ll all eat together.” She placed a hand on both their shoulders and gently urged them inside. “We have so much to talk about.”
* * *
After lunch, they sat outside as the sunset colored the clouds pink and purple on the horizon. Kalai drew his legs onto the seat of the rocking chair, a blanket draped over his lap and a mug of Madelina’s favorite tea in his hands. Syena was quiet. Leyra and the children had finally tired each other out, and Leyra had wiggled her way in between the buildings so she could rest her head on the edge of the porch. Arrow lay in front, between the rows of rose bushes, lazily scenting the air.
Tauran drank in the moment, as if he could make the seconds twice as long by concentrating hard enough. There was still so much to do, so many issues to solve. But just for a day, none of it mattered.
Tauran’s leg might never stop paining him and no pills would likely ever cure Kalai’s condition, but when things got bad, they had each other.
They were all right.
Tauran groaned, leaned back and draped a hand over his belly. “Skies, I don’t think I’ve eaten this much in years.”
Kalai smiled at him, a charming lock of hair dangling over his brow and framing his cheekbone. “I think—” He paused, the smile replaced by a look of concentration. He raised a hand.
Tauran stilled, looked between Kalai and the dragons.